


Plausible Attraction

by GoingKnowhere



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Death, x-files!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:58:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10053152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingKnowhere/pseuds/GoingKnowhere
Summary: Agent Leonard McCoy gets a new assignment. It and his new partner are not what he expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently started watching The X-Files on Netflix and before the first episode was even done I just knew I had to do a McKirk fic with the concept. I have no idea if anyone else has done this, but here’s my contribution!
> 
> With some character and detail alterations, it’s pretty much the part of the episode starting with the time of the reassignment to when they end their first meeting. 
> 
> ~ I do not own these characters and this fic was done for purely entertainment purposes! ~

_**Plausible Attraction** _

 

**\-----X-----**

 

**FBI HEADQUARTERS || WASHINGTON, D.C.**  

 

The brunet scowled as he strode through the building filled with his fellow black-suited agents. They ignored him or, at least, they pretended to ignore him. Everyone in the building was well-aware of the no-nonsense agent. Those well-acquainted with the Georgian merely brushed off his gruff demeanor. The newbies took one look and scattered.

 

Especially this early in the morning with no coffee in hand.

 

Turning down a narrow hallway, he finally slowed to a stop outside of an office door; the golden plaque declared that it belonged to a one ‘Section Chief Christopher Pike’. He raised his broad hand and gave two quick raps on the door to announce his arrival.

 

“Come in.”

 

He took a deep breath and tried to school his face into a less surly expression as he entered the office.

 

Christopher Pike was an example of FBI excellence. Originally a young, hot-shot police officer who tired of small town skirmishes, Pike breezed through the academy and agent life, earning the respect from fellow agents and superiors alike. Now, after 32 years of service and being named Section Chief,  that respect has yet to cease.

 

“Agent McCoy, thank you for coming on such short notice.”

 

Even as he simply sat behind his desk, the sharply-dressed, silver-haired, middle-aged man exuded an assertive grace; one that caused McCoy to gather his composure even after knowing him since gaining his status as an active agent. 

 

Pike gestured towards the empty chairs placed before his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

 

McCoy nodded and crossed the room. In doing so, he took notice of another presence in the small office. After taking a seat, the second man moved to stand at parade rest just behind Pike, giving McCoy a chance to see his identity. 

 

Agent Spock T’gai - the FBI poster child of good behavior and McCoy’s least favorite agent. He was too composed, too stoic, a bit of a narcissist, and had a god-awful bowl cut.

 

McCoy shoved down the memory of their run-in two years ago and focused on Pike.

 

The man in question let the silence in the room hang for a moment before breaking it. “Agent McCoy, we see you’ve been with us for just over three years.”

 

The urge for an eye-roll and sarcastic reply weighed heavily on McCoy’s tongue, but Spock’s presence caused him to refrain from giving into it. Pike wouldn’t care, but Spock would. “Yes, sir.”

 

Pike gave a soft  _hmmm_. “And, you went to medical school - top of your class, might I add, with your pick of top hospitals once you graduated - but you chose not to practice. How’d you come to work for the F.B.I?”

 

Another eye-roll was suppressed. “You already know this, sir.”

 

Two brows were raised at his reply - one amused and one unimpressed. McCoy heaved an audible sigh. “I was recruited out of med school, sir, several weeks before graduation.” He still remembered that night. He had been going on his twenty-fifth hour of coffee-fueled energy when a suit had intercepted his way to the break-room, offering him the job of a lifetime. “They wanted a few more medical specialists in the ranks, but after a few months I got a little restless. Field work was more interesting.

 

My family still thinks the switch was a delayed act of rebellion, but I saw the FBI as a place to distinguish myself from the rest of the doctors in my family. So I took the chance. Still don’t regret it for a second.”

 

“Even though it would eventually lead to a failed marriage?” 

 

Pike must have seen the red flash in McCoy’s eyes at Spock’s callous remark because he quickly stated, “Are you familiar with an agent named James Kirk?”

 

McCoy’s anger was momentarily abated by the abrupt comment. “Yes, sir, I am.”  Both seemed surprised at the response.

 

_Who wasn’t familiar with the guy?_

 

“How so?” Spock intoned, curious about how he knew the younger agent.

 

“Reputation.” Despite never actually seeing the kid, McCoy doubted there was a single soul in the agency that didn’t know about James Kirk. The second son of two legendary agents, his father, George Kirk, was killed the day Jim was born in an attempt to take a serial killer into custody. Days later, Winona resigned and moved out to Iowa. The next time the FBI heard major news about the family was when Kirk graduated college. “He’s one of the youngest recruits to date. A certified genius with degrees ranging from engineering to psychology, he wrote a monograph on serial killers and the occult, who helped to catch Nero. Generally thought of as the best analyst and agent in the violent crimes section.” There were several other things that McCoy could have added, but he didn’t think the kid’s promiscuity and tendency to bend and break the rules was something he needed to say aloud.

 

Pike tapped the arm of his chair in consideration. “What I’ll also tell you is that Agent Kirk has developed a consuming devotion to an unassigned project outside the bureau mainstream. Are you familiar with the so-called ‘X-Files?’”

 

“I’ve heard rumors of them, but I thought that that’s all they were.” McCoy scrunched up his face in though. “They have to do with unexplained phenomena, correct?”

 

The older agent tilted his head. “More or less. The reason you’re here, Agent McCoy, is that we want you to assist Kirk on these X-Files.You'll write field reports on your activities, along with your observations on the validity of the work.”

 

Stunned silence was all that McCoy could managed for several moments as he looked between the two agents in shock. “What?”

 

Spock seemed confused at McCoy’s own confusion. “What Chief Pike sai--”

 

“I heard what he said,” McCoy raised a hand and cut Spock off. “I just -- am I to understand that you want me to  _debunk the X-Files project?_ ”

 

“Agent McCoy,” a facetious Pike began, “we trust you’ll make the proper scientific analysis. You’ll want to contact Agent Kirk shortly.” With a final nod to end the early meeting, he added. “We look forward to seeing your reports.”

 

**\-----X-----**

 

McCoy, with his arms crossed over his chest, practically radiated frustration as he glared at the closed doors of the elevator. Of all the cases and partners he could have been assigned to, it just had to be the ones that dealt with hooey-crap. 

 

At the  _ding!_ , he grumbled again and began to stomp his way through the abandoned basement. Well, nearly abandoned. This was the location of Agent Kirk’s office.

 

Because where else would you put someone obsessed with superstitions and myths.

 

It was only once he reached the very back that he came across an office door. He knocked twice with his knuckles, cursing Pike under his breath for making him do this.

 

A male’s voice sounded through the door. “Sorry! Nobody down here but the F.B.I’s most unwanted!”

 

McCoy heaved another sigh before reaching out and twisting the knob, finally revealing the world he would now be working in...and -  _boy_ \- is it a doozy. The walls of the tiny office are the first thing that demand attention; each one plastered floor to ceiling with photos of UFO’s, ghosts, supernatural beings that McCoy couldn’t even put a name to, and several posters - one of which displays a UFO with the text ‘ _I Want to Believe’_. Nestled in between the massive collage were a handful of whiteboards and one silver screen. There were a total of seven metal filing cabinets shoved to the side and a handful of stools and chairs scattered about. To the right of the door, there was a second room separated by chain-length wall that seemed to be some sort of workzone. The wall mounted tables in the room weren’t any better; every single bit of space was cluttered with files, photos, knick-knacks, and a computer, currently displaying a page of text that McCoy couldn’t read.

 

Then again, that was probably due to most of the page being blocked by a curious looking--

 

_Oh._

 

_Pike was forgiven._

 

McCoy’s brain stuttered to a halt once his eyes finally landed on his new partner. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Agent James Kirk was definitely not it. For someone who’s office was in a windowless basement, Kirk appeared to be made of sunlight. His golden hair - tousled from his long fingers - and sun-kissed skin - scattered with light freckles and beauty marks - practically glowed under the warm light of the old bulbs. Piercing blue eyes - the color of a clear day and brimming with curiosity - caught his own from behind thick black frames that sat upon the bridge of a delicate nose. Pink, plush lips - quirked in fascination - were cradled in a strong jaw coated in a light stubble. 

 

This man did  _ **not**_ deserve to be hidden away in the depths of a basement.

 

McCoy blinked out of his stupor. “What?”

 

Kirk’s lips twitched in amusement. “I didn’t say anything.”

 

“Oh, ummmm,” he stuttered, face flushing when he realized he’d been caught staring. He hastily stepped farther into the office and thrust out his hand. “Agent Kirk, I--”

 

“Jim.”

 

McCoy blinked. “What?”

 

“Jim. James Tiberius Kirk, but I prefer Jim.”

 

“Oh, okay. Jim, uh, I’m Leonard McCoy, I’ve been assigned to work with you.” He managed to gather his thoughts enough to get the statement out. 

 

_What the hell?? He was never this flustered._

 

Jim shook his hand, revealing a strong grip that matched the man’s large hands. “Oh isn’t it nice to suddenly be so highly regarded?” He leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together behind his head, the rolled-up sleeves inching farther up his arms. Leonard was pretty sure the blond’s white button down was grateful to have the top two buttons undone. The stretch from the movement would have been too much on the nicely fitted shirt. “So, who did you tick off to get stuck with this detail, McCoy?” 

 

_More like what did I do in a past life._

 

“Actually, I’m looking forward to working with you.” Well, now he is. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Well, a little bit.

 

At that, Jim sat forward and raised a bushy brow. “Oh, really?” He stood up. “See, I was under the impression --” One step. Two steps. “-- that you were sent to spy on me.” Jim had them toe to toe, closing the distance between them to only a few inches. A sardonic grin graced his face. Turns out he was nearly as tall as Leonard was and just a little leaner. 

 

Leonard held his ground and stared right back. “If you have any doubt about my qualifications or credentials, th--”

 

He broke off as Jim held up a hand and then stepped back to grab a paper from a pile on his desk. “You’re a medical doctor, graduated from ‘Old Miss’, and have been an agent for about three years now. And, you did your undergraduate degree in physics.” He adjusted his glasses and held the paper closer to his face. “Einstein’s Twin Paradox, a New Interpretation. Leonard McCoy. Senior Thesis.” He turned his head back to Leonard. “Now that’s a credential, rewriting Einstein. I gotta say, I was not expecting that from you.”

 

Leonard glowered and crossed his arms again, choosing to ignore the last part. “Did you even bother to read it?”

 

“I did.” Jim gave a million-watt smile. “I liked it. But...” He sat back down and clicked around at the computer. “In most of my work, the laws of physics rarely seem to apply.” He turned back around and gestured to a point behind Leonard. “Can you get the lights?”

He rolled his eyes, but obliged the command. Instead of being left in darkness, the bright glow of a projector attached to the ceiling gave them light. They both turned to face the information now on the screen.

 

Leonard stared at the photo of the female and the smaller text next to it. “What is this?”

 

“I was hoping to get your medical opinion. This is Karen Swenson.” He used the mouse to circle her face. “An Oregon female, age twenty-one, no explainable cause of death. Her autopsy shows nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch.” He clicked the mouse to change to the next slide, one that showed two bumps on her back. “There were, however, these two distinct marks on her lower back.” He zoomed in on the spots. “Doctor McCoy, can you ID these marks?”

 

Leonard stepped closer squinting at the bright screen. “Needle punctures, maybe? Animal bite? Electrocution of some kind?” Using pictures projected on a screen wasn’t the same as observing the actual body.

 

He heard another click and the slide changed. He heard Jim say, “How’s your chemistry? This is the substance found in the surrounding tissue.”

 

“It’s organic...” He scanned over the slide. “I don’t know, is it some kind of synthetic protein? I’ve never seen this before.” At Jim’s sigh he turned back around to see him.

 

“Me either, but look at this.” He clicked again and Leonard observed the new slide; the body of a boy laying face-down on railroad tracks, his shirt was lifted in the back. Jim zoomed in on the exposed patch of skin. 

 

Leonard’s head tilted in interest. “It’s the same marks.”

 

“Sturgis, South Dakota.”

 

Another click. Another close-up of another pair of red bumps. “And again in Shamrock, Texas.”

 

The doctor mulled over what he was just shown. He twisted back to Jim, finding his eyes shining in the light. “Do you have a theory?”

 

“Oh, I have plenty of theories.” He gets up and walks towards Leonard to stand before him. “Maybe what you can explain to me is why it’s bureau policy to label these cases as ‘unexplained phenomena’ and ignore them.” His eyes gained a mischievous air and he leaned forward, just enough that his warm breath ghosted over Leonard’s face as he eerily whispered, “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

 

“Logically, I would have to say ‘no’.” God, he sounded like Spock. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed a spacecraft’s capabilities th...” He trailed off at Jim’s amused smirk. “What?”

 

He shrugged. “It’s comforting to know they sent me someone who’s thought about this stuff before.” Leonard rewarded him with a snort. “But, McCoy,” He scrunched up his face, resulting in Leonard getting distracted by the little wrinkles that appeared in Jim’s nose. “Leonard? Len? Leo? Nope. Not gonna work. What’s your middle name?”

 

“My...why do you need my middle name? What are you doing?”

 

“I’m trying to figure out what the hell to call you. ‘McCoy’ seems too impersonal and ‘Leonard’ is just...no.” The nose crinkles appeared again.

 

“What’s wrong with ‘Leonard’?” He felt like he should be insulted, but...

 

“You don’t look like a ‘Leonard’. You’re too young to be a ‘Leonard’.”

 

“I’m nearly thirty.”

 

“Exactly!”  _Why was this guy so exuberant about names?_  “You’re too young!”

 

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Tiberius.” Jim squinted his eyes at the mention of his middle name. “And I’m  _ **not**_ telling you my middle name. If you have a problem with my first name, you’re gonna definitely have issues with my middle one.”

 

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that because Jim lit up like a kid in a candy shop. “No. Nope. I’m not telling you. Don’t even try.”

 

And he immediately wanted to punch himself when the kid deflated. 

 

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me,” Jim huffed out. “I’ll just look up your file later.” Leonard was cut off before he even had a chance to argue. “Until then, I’ll just have to think of something for you.” 

 

A tinge of worry filled his gut. 

 

Jim looked waaaay to excited about that idea. 

 

He sighed. “I don’t have a choice in the matter, do I?”

 

Another radiant smile. “Nope!” He glanced back at the screen and the two suddenly remembered why they were they. “Right! Conventional wisdom!” Jim stepped away from him and darted back to the computer, clicking through the slides back to the first victim Leonard was shown. “You know this Oregon female? She’s the fourth person in her graduating class to die under mysterious circumstances.” He held up both hands. “Now, when convention and science offer us no answers...” He lifted a brow. “...might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?”

 

He had to hand it to the guy; he was good. Leonard waved his hand at the screen. “The girl  _obviously_ died of something. If it was by natural means, it’s  _plausible_ that there was something missing in the postmortem. If she was murdered, it’s  _plausible_ that there was a sloppy investigation or  _maybe_ even a purposeful cover-up.” He moved to stand a few feet away from where Jim sat. “What I find ‘ _fantastic_ ’ is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there. You just have to know where to look.”

 

With that, Jim leaned forward and looked up at Leonard, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s why they put the ‘I’ in ‘F.B.I.’” He punctuated the acronym. Leonard watched as Jim then leaned back and spun his chair to start sorting through papers. “See you tomorrow morning, Doc --” He scrunched his face once more. “-- bright and early!”

 

Leonard huffed and rolled his eyes yet again before turning to leave the still dim office. Just as he stepped through the door, he heard Jim say, “We leave for the  _very plausible_ state of Oregon at eight A.M.!”

 

A glance back at his new partner revealed that he was now facing his computer, but Leonard knew when he was being watched in someone’s peripheral. 

 

He smothered a smile. 

 

He had a case to pack for.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This [site](http://www.insidethex.co.uk/transcrp/scrp179.htm) has the transcripts of the show’s episodes and it’s what I used to write up the dialogue and scenes that happened in the episode instead of continuously replaying the episode over and over again. 
> 
> Also, right now I’m just keeping this as a one-shot
> 
> +++++
> 
> You can also find me here on [tumblr](http://goingknowherewastaken.tumblr.com/) :)


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